Everyone is stunned into silence before they erupt in a wild cacophony of shouts and disbelief. The Guild explodes.
People yell over each other, so throwing their hands in the air, others swearing at the map or pounding the tables.
Guildmaster Dorn finally loses it.
He smashed the table in front of him and everyone starts backing out as he starts taking out his fury for the loss of face and money upon the furniture.
“HOW IN THE HELL DID HE DO IT?!” the man howls like a wolf.
* * *
I push open the double doors while heat slams into my face and forces
to squint. The Boss stands at the center of the chamber. It is a giant golem built from thick slabs of red and white glass, and its eyes burn with blue fire as a ring of crystal hovers above its head. The monster is taller than any I have faced before, so I know I have no margin for error.
Colossal Glass Golem [Empowered, Boss] – Level 75
When I step forward, the Boss raises one massive arm. Light gathers in its chest before it fires from its mouth. A bright, white-hot laser carves straight across the room, and the beam scorches a deep groove through solid glass.
I do not hesitate because I know I will die if I stand still. I summon Infernal Wings of Ash, and when they burst out from my back with embers and smoke, I feel lighter than I ever have before. Veins of Fire surges through every limb and every muscle, giving
more power than any normal Skill could ever provide.
As I move, I open the Grimoire Extraordinaire, knowing that only it can show
what I need. Architect’s Insight slides into place and overlays the Boss’s body with blue lines. Every flaw and every weak spot is clear. I see a thin weakness right at the neck, where two glass plates do not fit together perfectly.
The Boss fires again, but I have already started to move. I dodge left and then kick off the ground, flying up with my wings.
Without the wings it would have been much harder to approach the Boss, I realize. Using Fire Walk would have gotten
killed.
Without the three-dinsional nature of flight, dodging the laser would have been extrely difficult. Alas, I now feel suprely confident I can deal with this monster despite its strength.
As the Boss tries to track , I climb higher, and when it charges another laser, I drop straight down so I can slip under the beam. My wings snap closed because I want to go faster, and the heat barely grazes .
I tighten my grip on Hell’s Sword and race for the weak spot. I swing as hard as I can when I reach the neck. The sword cracks through the glass, and blue fire erupts from the wound. The Boss staggers because its core is exposed.
Its arms try to rise, but the body won’t respond. It kneels.
Then the whole fra sags to the floor.
The head droops forward, and the light in its eyes fades out for good.
I stand over what’s left of the Boss, and my chest rises and falls as I catch my breath. Ash wings fade behind
while, as Hell’s Sword fades away, a strange breeze cools in my hand.
“Fuck, that was fast,” I sigh, feeling my heart hamring my chest.
Dropping from all above the ceiling against the golem almost had
shit my pants if I have to be completely honest.
I didn’t expect the Boss to track
so fast, and for a second I thought the laser would catch
midair. If my wings had faltered or if I had hesitated when I tucked them, I would have been dead right there, burned to ash before I even reached the ground.
I know I make it look easy when I fight, but that was luck as much as it was skill. The Grimoire’s overlay helped
see the weak spot, but if I had ssed up the timing, or if the Boss had moved half a step quicker, I would have been just another dead idiot here.
Landing behind its shoulder, feeling the heat rolling off its body while every rune on its glass fra burned, I almost slipped. My heart hamred so hard I felt dizzy for a second. I only got my footing back because Veins of Fire pushed more power through my legs than I thought possible.
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That’s the thing about wings—everyone thinks they make you unstoppable. The truth is, they’re hard to use, and I have to watch my mana every second, or else I’d just crash straight into the floor. Only after I fixed every flaw could I trust them not to get
killed.
If I had missed with that swing, I wouldn’t have gotten a second chance. The Boss would have crushed . But I didn’t miss. I got it right, and the bastard went down.
The Boss’s body is already cooling, its glass plates cracked and scattered in the shadows. There’s no more movent, no hidden trap, nothing left to fight.
I let out a long breath, finally steady.
The last battle is over.
Then, sothing begins to erge from the floor.
“Oh shit, is that a Skill Crystal?” I mutter and then my eyes go wide when I read the description.
* * *
I step through the gate, dragging my loot behind .
The portal spits
out in a flash of cold air and a slap of sunlight.
I blink, half-dazed, as a crowd erupts in a wave of noise.
The sa massive tal bars rise all around, warped from age, with warning runes and burnt signs still clinging to the posts. Adventurers crowd outside the fence, jostling for a look as they wait for soone—for .
They stare at
like I’m so kind of legend, but all I can think about is how much I want a real bed and a nice, warm al.
The Guild’s officials stand at attention, looking like they expect a corpse, not a winner. Felisia pushes through the crowd, her face drawn tight, but when she sees , her eyes go wide and she almost smiles.
Sir Greyson stands at the edge of the crowd. He doesn’t say anything, but he gives
a small nod.
Guildmaster Dorn just stares, pale and speechless. He looks at , looks at the pile of loot on my back, and shakes his head like he’s seen a ghost.
I walk out of the cage, carrying every bit of loot I could haul, and the first thing I feel is the wind. It isn’t hot or stifling. It just feels clean, like I’ve co up for air after hours spent drowning. The sunlight is blinding. For a second, I can’t even hear the crowd, but then it hits
all at once—a hundred voices shouting, people pressing close to the bars, a good deal of Clearwater here to see if I’d really co out, I suppose.
Wait, how do they even know when I was supposed to get out?
Felisia finally finds her voice. She steps up, stops just short of grabbing my arm, and says, “You’re insane. You know that, right?” She sounds like she might actually be proud.
Sir Greyson just shakes his head. “Well done, Jacob. That’s all I’ll say. Well done.”
* * *
Felisia had servants carry the loot for
to a carriage that will be brought straight to the auction house. She said she’ll be handling that matter personally and even bring
there in three days since there’s a big auction going on.
I lay down in the bed in her estate.
I didn’t have the willpower to say no.
It’s much softer than the ones I was sleeping on at the inn.
I let myself sink into the mattress, muscles aching, mind still buzzing from the fight. For the first ti in a few days, I’m not thinking about traps, monsters, or how much mana I have left and when next to ditate.
I’m not even worried about what cos next, not with a bed this soft and a room this quiet. Felisia’s house is bigger than any place I’ve stayed before. The walls are painted with scenes of knights and ships. Heavy curtains block out the sun. The only sound is my own breathing.
I stretch my legs, and every joint in my body pops. It feels good, but I know I’m going to need a healer for so of these bruises. That, or a lot more sleep. I stare at the ceiling and let my mind drift.
A servant knocks on the door, then leaves a tray of food and walks away. I don’t bother asking what it is. I just eat until I’m full, not even tasting half of it. Hot bread, thick slices of at, so kind of soup. I barely look up from the plate until it’s empty.
Sleep creeps up on . I don’t fight it. I let go, finally safe, finally out of the Dungeon. I feel the ache in my arms and the weight of every fight and every step I took to get here.
Just a little bit of rest…
* * *
Felisia’s hands tremble as she handles the letter that just arrived to the Clearwater Duke’s estate.
“Queen Anthea Valemont, High Lady of Aurion, First of Her Na, Keeper of the Astral Throne.”
Felisia swallows.
In the human Empire, there’s one Emperor and many Kings and Queens. One could even say that the Kings and Queens are so nurous that being what many call them minor Royals, is not that uncommon. However, for soone from a small city like Clearwater, a tiny dukedom that doesn’t have much influence in the empire, dealing with even a minor Royal is not a light matter.
“Sir Greyson,” Felisia clears her throat. “Isn’t the Astral Throne…”
Sir Greyson, who had been watching over Felisia with the sa perplexed gaze, nodded.
“It is a large kingdom. One of the more powerful ones. I wouldn’t put them at the very top, but…”
Felisia’s education was spotty. She was a noble, but she hadn’t exactly studied every single noble family—that was because she had not taken well to history lessons.
“Why does the Queen have a letter addressed to Jacob?” Felisia asks, looking at the letter like it could eat her alive.
“We’ll just have to ask him,” Sir Greyson replied.
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